Gallant
by the-oncoming-storm-xx
Summary: When Johnny is paralyzed from the waist down and wheelchair-bound, Dally takes it upon himself to help Johnny and make his life a little better. Little does he know, Johnny might be the one changing Dally. I suck at summaries, but it's not that bad, I swear! Johnny/Dally SLASH. FLUFF. ANGST. YAY! :D Rating may change.
1. Bittersweet

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own the Outsiders, nor do I own any of the characters mentioned in this story.**

**Warning:  SLASHHHHH SLASHITY SLASH SLASH! Don't like, don't read :)**

**A/N: **** This is my first fic ever written, so I do apologize if it's horrible! Alright, I guess I can't stall anymore, so enjoy! :D**

Dally bit his lip tentatively before quietly knocking on the hospital room door. He almost didn't want to go in. What if there was bad news? What if he— but, no, Dally couldn't afford to think that way. Dallas Winston was strong, and he never cried, and nothing fazed him, and how the _hell_ was it possible that, just by walking into this room, that could all change?

Nobody seemed to hear him, so Dally knocked harder, the rhythm of his fist matching the staccato beat of his heart. His palms were sweaty, and it was taking all he had not to turn around and bolt, maybe run away to Mexico, and no one would even know he was gone, and—

The door creaked open. "Ahh... Mr. Winston." The doctor tried to keep his voice calm, but Dally heard the sharp note of fear behind it. "Please, come in."

Dally glanced warily at the fragile-looking form sprawled haphazardly across the bed. "He's not..."

"No, no, just sleeping," the doctor— what was his name? Wilson? Washington? Dally didn't really care— assured him.

"Is he— will he be—" Dally's voice broke and he realized how pathetic he sounded. "Just give it to me straight, doctor, is he gonna be okay or- or what?", he asked in his normal gruff voice.

Dr. W— yeah, that was good—gave Dally a small smile. "He'll live— in fact, he should be out in a couple of weeks. But I don't think he'll ever be 'okay'. He won't be able to walk again, and he's undoubtedly suffered serious mental trauma."

Dallas felt a lump rise in his throat. Johnny was already unstable enough, what with his parents and the run-in he had had with the Socs. What would he be like now, half-paralyzed and miserable? And yet, there was that one part of Dally, that one, selfish part, that was on top of the world.

* * *

Dallas Winston's whole life had been bittersweet. He had never had a moment where he was ecstatic, euphoric, even just a moment when he was plain and simply happy. And, of course, now was no exception.

Dally banged his fist against the headboard, ignoring the blood that dripped from his knuckles. It wasn't _fair_! Johnny didn't _deserve_ this! Dally hated everything. He hated Ponyboy for saving those damned kids, he hated Johnny for trying to help him, but most of all he hated himself for not running into that building the second Johnny jumped through the window. He hated that he had almost been too late. But, no, he didn't even want to consider _that_ possibility.

Johnny was going to have an awful, miserable life, and yet Dally was somehow happy. Because he still had Johnny, and if Dally had Johnny, Dally had Dally. Of course, he couldn't tell himself this, and even if he could, he probably wouldn't be able to understand. But he knew that this moment, just like the rest of his life, was bittersweet.

**A/N: **** Okay, so I know that chapter was incredibly short and boring, but I had to have some way to open it and show what Dally was feeling. The next chapter will probably be Johnny reuniting with the gang and all that stuff, and after that there will definitely be some very fluffy fluff. 3 Also, I'm going to try to update this at least once a week, but it might take longer (or it could be quicker) based on my schedule. As I said before, this is the first fic I've ever written, so if you could review and tell me if you enjoyed it or how I could make it better, I would be eternally grateful :3**


	2. Simply Not the Hugging Type

**Disclaimer: **** I do not own The Outsiders, nor do I own any characters mentioned; all rights belong to S.E. Hinton. :)**

**A/N:**** I actually got reviews, definitely wasn't expecting that! Wow. So, thank you to everyone who reviewed, it really means a lot to me! :D**

Dallas took a long draw from his cigarette as he watched the gang yell and scream and laugh. He wondered how they could be so lighthearted when there were so many things wrong with the world. Didn't they understand that at any time they could be attacked? Didn't they get that their lives were constantly in danger, that not everyone had the same naive morals as them? But then, maybe they didn't.

Johnny knew. That's why he killed that damn Soc, because he knew, he knew what had to be done. Oh god, he missed Johnny so much.

"Arghh, Soda, get off me!" Steve cried between bales of laughter, flipping Soda, who had just jumped on his back, on to the couch and pinning him down.

Dally sighed. This was boring, he wanted to be at the horse races, or out getting drunk, or picking a good fight with Tim Shepard. He started to say something, knowing that the gang understood his hatred of being cooped up doing nothing, when the Curtis's phone rang.

Soda ran to pick it up, tripping over the foot Two-Bit stuck out. "Hello?" Soda tried to sound as serious as he could while his friends laughed their asses off in the background. His eyes lit up. "You serious?" he asked in disbelief. "Okay. Okay. We will. Bye, now."

"W-who was on the phone, Soda?" Ponyboy asked, still snickering.

"It was that doctor, Weatherbee or Williams or whatever. They're finally letting Johnny out of the hospital!"

"You serious?"

"Mhm," Soda replied with a grin.

Everybody went crazy, dancing around the room, whooping, and jumping all over the furniture.

"We gotta throw him a party, show the kid we missed him!" Two-Bit exclaimed.

"Naw, man, you just lookin' for an excuse to get boozed up!" Soda teased.

"Well, if this is an excuse, it's a damn good one," he pointed out with a mischevious grin and his signiture cock of an eyebrow.

"Guys. GUYS!" Darry, who had remained almost silent the whole night, interrupted. "I hardly think he'll want a party. After all, he's gonna be in a wheelchair the rest of his life, and he's gotta still be pretty shaken up. We gotta go easy on the kid."

Everybody fell silent after that.

Meanwhile, a million thoughts were running through Dally's mind. Would Johnny be okay? Would he be his normal self? Would he hate Dally for not pulling him out the fire sooner? Dally knew this was completely irrational. But he hated himself for it.

* * *

The gang finally arrived at the hospital, out of breath from doing cartwheels and flips all the way down the street. Darry hesitated in front of the door, as if he realized that this was a public place, and wanted to tell the gang to act civilizied, but, in the end, he thought better of it, and Two-Bit threw the doors open. The receptionist, who by then recognized them gave an overly-sweet smile. "I'm assuming you're all here to see Mr. Cade?" she asked in an annoyingly high voice.

Dally rolled his eyes impatiently. "Well, who the hell else would we want to see?"

The receptionist's smile faltered a bit. "Right back there, Room 704," she informed him, her voice turning sharp.

Steve slammed through the door, not bothering to knock, and everyone else ran in behind him. "Hey, Johnnycake!" he exclaimed, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Hey guys," Johnny said. He put on a fairly convincing grin, but Dallas heard the weakness in his voice.

The next 30 seconds were utter chaos, everyone shouting greetings at Johnny, ruffling his hair, and punching him affectionately on the shoulder.

"Good to see you, kid," Dally said with a sly grin. He bent down a few inches to give Johnny, who was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, a quick, one-armed hug, pulling back almost immediately.

The room fell silent, a faint blush creeping up on Johnny's cheeks. Not once had the gang ever seen Dally hug someone. Not even the hot girls Dally had... uhh... "forced himself" upon. Dallas Winston was simply not the hugging type.

After a few moments of painfully awkward silence, the doctor— dammit, what was his _name?— _spoke. "Before we can dismiss Mr. Cade, we'll need one of you to sign off on a few forms. Normally, of course, these would have to be signed by a parent or guardian, but he simply refused." Dally smirked at this. "And, as you _are_ listed as his emergency contacts, we've decided to allow it."

Darry nodded, reaching over to sign the forms.

"Alright, Johnny, you're free to go," Dr. What-does-it-matter-now said with a smile as he helped Johnny into the wheelchair that he would now be using. Dally winced, feeling that familiar pang of guilt he got whenever he remembered that day in Windrixville.

As the gang headed home from the hospital, everyone bombarded Johnny with questions; they all seemed to forget the previous "incident."

Dally, however, wasn't hearing a word they were saying. What the hell _happened_ in the hospital? Dally didn't _hug_ people, hugging wasn't tuff, hugging showed _emotion_, and all-be-damned if Dallas Winston showed emotion. He didn't even know if he was even capable of that anymore. But lately, that seemed to be changing...

* * *

**A/N:  End of chapter 2, hope you all enjoyed! The next chapters will probably be very fluffy and possibly a bit angsty. I'm really sorry in advance if I don't update really quickly; whenever I try to write fluff I get writer's block, and I feel like it's really awkward, but I'll try my best to update frequently! Please review if you like it or if you have any constructive criticism. Also, if you noticed any mistakes with the story, typoes, or spelling/grammatical errors, please point them out to me! Byyyyye :D**


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